Just a Squib
by darkprediction
Summary: We all know the Caretaker Argus filch, but how did he come to be at Hogwarts? Why did he name his cat Mrs. Norris. And what sparked his somewhat disturbing ways of punishing wrongdoers?


Here is a story I came up with on vacation with my friend. The inspiration came from sitting up at 1AM laughing about Harry Potter and Squibs. I hope that this is funny still. Read it and tell me what you think.

**(Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter. Nope, nothing!)**

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**Just a Squib**

As a small child, Argus Filch was brought up like any other young wizard. For years, he was a very happy child. It wasn't until years later that the parents of young Argus started to realize that he was in fact, different. The suspicions of Filch's father began around the age of nine. With two years to go until his hopeful departure to Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry, Mr. Filch thought that his son would have shown some signs of magic by now. Like any concerned parent, he attempted to force some magic out of his son. He would do this by trying to get young Argus to pull spectacular escape feats. He would chan him up to the ceiling by his thumbs and leave the room. Sadly he always returned to a still-hanging Argus Filch and he's let him down until he thought up another mediocre magic luring tactic.

But it was apparent at Argus's eleventh birthday that something was wrong. It was nearly the start of a new Hogwart's term and yet, no acceptance letter. Soon, poor Argus became somewhat of an embarassment of the family. When out at dinner partys, a friend of the parents would ask:

"So will he be entering his second year, now?" Mr. and Mrs Filch would shake their head sadly and look tragically at his son. "Oh, I see. Is he er... 'special'?"

"No," They would say. " He's just a Squib." Filch would walk away with his head hung low and still he heard his father mutter. "Special would be an overstatement. Don't insult them."

It was especially difficult to find work as a Squib. It seemed that nowhere in the magical world, was there a place that could use a worker with no magical ability. He tried places in diagon alley, lile the leaky cauldron. He even attempted an interview with a Gringott's goblin, but as his Gobbeldeygook was a little off, "I'm Argus Filch, a Squib." Came out more like "I'm a gross filthy squid" in the Goblin's tongue. Needless to say, the interview ended very shortly after that.

Argus filch was a miserable young man. He walked the streets feeling alone. In his sadness, he cried out to the sky. "IS THERE ANY PLACE FOR A SQUIB LIKE ME?" A single wizard's voice replied from the distance, "NO" Argus sat on a bench with his head in his hands. "I'm so alone..." He wimpered, like the rejected soul he was. It was the next moment that would change his life entirely.

"Mew..." Filch looked up and saw a small mangy looking kitten at his feet. He picked it up and it purred. He held the little creature up to study her face. Her eyes had an unnatureal yelowish reddish tint that threw him into a flashback of his childhood.

He had a neighbor by the name of Mr. Norris. The man was just plain odd. He would run off to late, wild parties, where who knows what the heck went on. In the morning he would stagger back down the street. On one sunny morning, young Argus was playing in the front yard. He saw his odd neighbor coming up the street and waved.

"Aye, 'ello there, sonny." Slurred Mr. Norris. His eyes were bloodshot and tinted a vibrant mustard color that made Argus wonder what he was up to.

"Good day, Mr. Norris." He greeted politely. That's when he realized that his neighbor was dressed up in drag!

"Nah, me boy...Today, call me Mrs. Norris..." He slurred and went back to hobbling uneasily down the street to his home.

Snapping out of his reverie, Filch looked back into the cat's eyes. "I think I'll call you Mrs. Norris." He said. From then on, the two were inseperable.

Months later, Filch found himself still looking for work. He and his cat had no proper home, so they had no choice but to wander the streets. It was by extreme luck that he met Albus Dumbledore, who was the newly appointed Headmaster. The two spoke and soon, Dumbledore had an offer for Filch.

"My dear lad. I think I can find you some work at my school. A place to stay, too." He said, eyes a-twinkle.

"Really?" Filch asked excitedly. "What?"

Dumbledore smiled and said. "Naturally, a job to fit a squib's ability. A janitor."

Filch thought for a moment. "Okay Sir, but do you think that a nicer title could do?"

"Of course, how about 'Caretaker'?"

"Ah, that sounds much nicer." Said Filch approvingly.

And so, Argus Filch moved into Hogwarts and began his duties as Caretaker. He enjoyed being a terror to the snotty little kids that had the abilities that he lacked. He hung wrongdoers by their thumbs as sort of payback. Yes, he and Mrs. Norris became quite the team.

It was a few months later when Professor McGonagall came to a stunning realization while in a conversation with the Headmaster. "Albus, You hired that Squib to clean the castle and give detentions, di you not?"

"Why yes, Minerva. I did." WAs Dumbledore's reply.

McGonagall seemed to be thinking for a minute. "You know, we could just clean this whole place in a minute flat using magic, Albus." She said.

"I know."

"And the detentions, there are plenty of Professors here the students could serve those with."

"Indeed there are."

"But why-"

"Minerva, my dear. I know that we could just as easily do all of those tasks, but I-"

"Hired him to help him out? Because you felt bad for him?"

"No. I just figured, 'why not just make the Squib do it?'"

"Genus!" Said McGonagall, astonished. "After all, He's just a Squib."

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So what did y'all think of that? I just thought that it'd be fun to write a summary of his life. I'm not sure how many more HP fics I'll be doing after this, though. I think that everyone's had enought with my last, erm, slightly disturbing one. Besides after reading HBP, well I lost a bit of inspiration (not that I didn't like the book!) Please Review!

Love, Mole.


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